Bech pushes a vending machine cup at Cappelli. “What’s she saying?”

Cappelli hooks a thumb into a pocket “Never gets any fucking better does it? Denying everything of course. Says she’s being framed.”

Bech barks a laugh. “Of course. Just another victim of a tragic miscarriage of justice.”

“Aren’t they all? Still, looks like that lawyer of hers is going to get her sprung. Bail’s set high but the judge is allowing it. No previous. And it looks like they share a school tie.”

Fuck!

“Who is he? He looked pretty high-class to be the legal for a hooker.”

“Theo Aldred. Subs for Max Devlin. From Hofferman and Partners…”

“Hofferman’s? The prosecutors on the Romani Family case?”

“Yup. Don’t envy him that one. They’ve got all the wits under protection and the judge and lawyers have full surveillance.” Cappelli sucks at the coffee, pulls a face. “Stone-cold… You’re right though. You’d not think he’d turn up for the likes of that one would you?” He tilts the cup at Bech. “I’m going to the machine for another. Want one?”

“Thanks, but no. I’m off in five.”

*****

So, the bitch got herself sprung…

Back in his apartment, Bech paces, curses, bangs his fist on the wall. Then…

The blindingly fuckin’ obvious…

He checks the card index,

And sure enough…

Maximillian Devlin. Lawyer. Married twice. Son by previous.

One daughter by current marriage - favourite topic of conversation. Likes rabbits and pink. Got a pony. Gymkhana. Head girl at Ponterbury.

*****

Michael

as I take in stone arches and vaulted ceilings, then brain-cells line up in

are rumpled, sheets thrown back, but when I listen,

an elbow, I take a good look at my Sleeping Beauty. She’s looking better than she

Her father…

Christ…

her

Babe…

cheekbones with a fingertip. Her lids

see Charlotte… my Charlotte…there. Not the stranger who looked out at me for the

touch

face,

soft and watery. “I’m fine. Really, I’m fine now. I’m sorry

a curved brow with the pad of my thumb. “Sometimes life throws shit at us, knocks us down. There's no sin in falling

dropping her gaze, she bobs her

want to get yourself pregnant.” Her

is a whisper. “Is that

what I said when we talked about it. It’s fine.

around the back of my head. “Thank you.” She

go away…” She sighs. “And yes, I’ve been looking forward

forehead creases. “You

don’t imagine James and I share a bed when you’re not in it with us? He might

there.” James holds a tray. The scents of toast and coffee

sits bolt upright. “God, I’m starving. Did you

James grins. “She’s back.”

*****

Twenty-Six Years Ago

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